To Whom He Speaks
by xxIAmTheSkyxx
Summary: While budding writer Lucy Heartfilia is visiting an old town in the mountains in order to do research materials to use in her next book, she hears of a local legend passed down by its denizens—"Any who hear his voice shall die." Intrigued, she decides to look into it herself—and discovers that the legend is not all as it seems to be. Originally posted 04/07/2015.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _"I shall give to you this word of caution, child," the old man warned her as she was about to exit the building. "If you must venture outside our boundaries, keep silent and do not linger. Stuff your ears the moment you step across, lest you hear him speak. You must prevent that from happening, at all costs."_

 _She paused and turned to stare at the elder in confusion. "What? Who's 'him'? Why is it so bad if he finds me?"_

 _"We are not to speak his name, under any circumstances. I only ask that you heed my warning." The old man gazed at her earnestly. "For it is said…'to whomever he speaks, death shall soon follow'. It has been years since the last incident…but one cannot be too careful."_

 _"R-right," she stammered, unnerved by the old man's cryptic words. "So, um, if you can't tell me who he is—er, can you at least tell me what he looks like, so I can recognize him when I see him?"_

 _He didn't answer her, simply pulling a small, crumpled-up envelope from his vest pocket and handing it to her. He placed it into her hand and closed her fingers around them, his grip firm. "Take a look at this, if you wish," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "It may give you some insight that I cannot, for I have not opened it. But if by slim chance you do run into him…flee without hesitation. You must not let his voice reach your ears, child. It will bring about your end."_

* * *

In hindsight, venturing out on her own probably hadn't been too smart.

Not that Lucy was afraid of the subject of this legend, of course—far from it. If she was being honest with herself, she was more afraid of getting lost and getting attacked by a wild animal in the thick bramble than running into this supposedly supernatural being that could end people's lives with just the sound of his voice. Her ears were stuffed full of cotton as per the old man's advice; she could hardly hear her own footsteps, much less anything else—which was dangerous out in the wilderness. She should've at least brought a local as a guide that actually knew their way around.

 _Stupid Lucy_ , she scolded herself internally, _you should've known better than to jump into this without thinking! You always do this!_

But it was too late for her to go back—she could see through the thicket of branches above her head that the sky was starting to turn a pallid pink now, and by the time she found someone actually willing to escort her through this forest, it would be too dark for them to proceed, and she didn't want to wait until morning. She was too hung up on this legend—nothing had intrigued her this much before in her life, which was certainly saying something what with all the traveling she had done—and she wanted to learn more about it as soon as possible.

Lucy sighed to herself once with a resigned smile at her own rashness, brushing several locks of her golden hair out of her face before forging on, her pack that contained her notes and writing tools, plus an extra jacket in case it got too cold, along with several high-energy snacks, a bottle of water, and extra flashlight batteries (and the flashlight itself, of course) heavy on her shoulders. While the locals had said the forest could get pretty difficult to navigate at night, she was confident that she would be fine as long as she kept track of the clear worn path winding around the trees, because that was how she'd entered the woods to begin with. As it was, she only had a couple hours left before she had to start heading back, and she didn't want to waste time.

As she continued to hike and search for any clues, her mind was going a million miles an hour. The envelope that an old man in the village had given her was all she could glean from the townsfolk themselves, and it wasn't very much to go on. There'd been a fuzzy photograph of a human-like blur that appeared to be running away from the photographer and a short note enclosed in it that described that photographer's encounter with this "him". Apparently this woman (the writer of the letter had a female name) had gotten lost in these woods some years ago—around three, according to the date written on the note—and had encountered him when the sky had gone completely dark.

" _I ran into the one you mentioned the night before my departure_ ," the note had read. " _He couldn't have been older than sixteen,and he was out here all alone. I wondered if he'd gotten lost, the same as I had, and I opened my mouth to ask…but at that moment, he backed away from me and pointed to my left. I looked where he'd pointed on impulse and caught sight of the town lights. When I looked back, the boy was fleeing._

 _Contrary to what you told me, however, he did not say a word to me._

 _I managed to snap this photo of him before he vanished from sight. I will include it as proof of my encounter with him. I request some truthful answers this time. I will be waiting for your reply."_

That bit of information clashed with the tale the old man had told her. In his story, it had sounded as if the "one" mentioned sought out people who got lost in these woods and spoke to them with every intent of ending their lives as punishment for encroaching on his territory. The one in this account—a boy appearing about sixteen (closer to nineteen now if he was still around)—had done the exact opposite. He hadn't gone hunting for the woman—she'd come across _him_. And the first thing he'd done was point her in the direction of safety and attempt to run away from her the moment she'd looked away. If anything, this boy had been trying to _avoid_ encountering people, even guide them to safety, instead of actively seeking them out to kill them for trespassing.

Which account was the true one? Had the old man lied to Lucy in his tale? Or was this woman the one who had lied to _him?_ Or was there something more to the contents of this envelope and to the origins of this story she'd heard that she didn't know yet? It was difficult to tell.

Then her mind went to the blurry photograph of the fleeing figure. There hadn't been much she could make out in terms of recognizable human features besides the human-esque build of the figure thanks to the odd flash lighting of the camera used and the probability that it had been nighttime when this photo had been taken, but there was one more detail that stood out to her like a beacon: the boy's hair. It had been pink. Bright pink. Definitely an unnatural hair color.

The sun was sinking more rapidly now, dyeing the sky and landscape in brilliant shades of red and orange and stretching the shadows of the trees around her to their limits. Lucy finally paused in her nonstop trek, taking a moment to catch her breath as she stared up at the sky, and realized how late it had gotten. It would be dark by the time she returned to the town if she didn't head back now, and while the idea of spending the night in the woods was tempting, getting lost here in the dark would be very bad. Not to mention she hadn't really brought along much in the ways of camping equipment .

Though Lucy had expected as much, she couldn't help but feel disappointed anyway. She'd come this far and had found absolutely nothing worth adding to her notes about this supposed legend besides what she'd already acquired. It was probably unrealistic for her to have assumed that she'd discover something worthwhile on the first day of investigating, but that didn't make this failure hit her any less forcefully, because research usually came so easy to her.

She sighed in disappointment as she fished out the flashlight from her pack and flicked it on, turning to head back—and in doing so, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, moving to her right. She whirled around, her eyes struggling to chase and pinpoint the cause.

But she found nothing.

Cautiously, Lucy raised her free hand and pulled out the thick cotton balls she had stuffed into her ears, stashed them in her jacket pocket, and continued to scan the ever-darkening area, shining the flashlight on anything suspicious and straining her ears for any strange sounds.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice tense in her nervousness. "Is somebody out there?"

She waited, but there was no answer. But then—

A moment later, there was a sudden snap of a breaking branch, and she yelped in terror and jumped nearly a mile high. She couldn't help herself. She tried frantically to shine her flashlight in the direction of the noise when she'd managed to compose herself somewhat, but all she could do was swing around the beam of light around her uselessly—the sound had echoed around her, so she had no idea where it had come from.

Lucy took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. _It was nothing_ , she told herself. _Don't freak out, Lucy. It was probably just a squirrel or a bear, or—_

She stopped herself with a sharp shake of the head. Heading back was looking like a better idea by the minute. She turned around to hike back down the path—and found herself face-to-face with the boy she had seen in the blurry picture.

* * *

Lucy had to cover her mouth with both hands to avoid screaming in her shock. She could feel her eyes prickling with tears that had sprung up the moment her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.

How long had he been standing there? Granted, he wasn't right in her face or anything—he was close enough to identify yet far away enough that it wasn't an encroachment into her personal space—but she was sure that no one had been there in the several seconds that she'd looked away.

The boy had definitely aged from the time the photo of him had been taken. He looked older than he had been in the picture, still somehow boyish in appearance, but could pass as a young adult. Just like in the photo, his hair was bright pink. It was slightly longer now, but still in that mussed-up style, bits of twigs and leaves stuck in its locks. Maybe it was just the light of the flashlight, but he looked strangely pale for someone living out in the woods. His clothes were surprisingly well-groomed also, if somewhat rumpled. He was wearing a plain black hoodie faded by constant wear, khaki-colored hiking jeans, and—oddly—dirty sandals on his feet as opposed to hiking shoes.

In other words, he looked surprisingly ordinary—except for his eyes. Since his back had been turned toward her in the picture, she hadn't exactly thought to contemplate what his face looked like, but that didn't matter now that she was seeing it in person. His eyes were extremely distracting, because she couldn't decide what color they were. They were like a kaleidoscope of color, changing every now and again from gray, to black, to brown, to an odd shade of green, maybe even some hints of red under the shine of her flashlight.

And here he was, staring at her intently with those dizzying eyes.

Lucy wanted to say something, but the boy's steadfast gaze kept her silent— which was just as well, because even if she had managed to open her mouth, she wouldn't have been able to think of anything to say to him.

Still, she found this strange. Why was he scrutinizing her so intently? Why wasn't he backing off and running away, like he'd done three years ago? She wasn't sure if she should feel terrified, or excited, or nervous, or something else. After all, every legend had some sort of basis to real-life events, and there was a high possibility that his voice really had killed people in the past. All he had to do now was open his mouth and say something in order to prove it.

But he didn't. She wasn't sure how long the boy had been staring at her, but it felt like an eternity before the boy finally averted his eyes and allowed Lucy to lower her head and stare down at her boots, a flurry of emotion coursing through her entire body at what had just occurred. She couldn't believe it. She'd finally found the boy spoken of in the legend, but she was at a loss as to what she should do now with this opportunity. What _was_ she supposed to do? It wasn't like she could just sit him down to ask him questions about himself and expect him to answer to a complete stranger—not to mention, he probably wouldn't want to speak to begin with. Did he even know how?

She raised her head again slowly in an effort to keep from scaring the boy away. He was still there, looking down at the dirt beneath his feet, but his eyes were out of focus and he was biting his lip—he looked like he was thinking hard about something. The expression made Lucy want to ask him what was wrong, but she stopped herself. She couldn't afford crossing whatever invisible line that existed between the two of them at this moment, so she settled for staying silent and waiting for whatever he was going to do next. She noticed vaguely in the back of her mind that it was getting extremely late now, but she was too focused on the boy in front of her to really pay much attention to the time.

Then the boy suddenly moved—he turned his body halfway, as if he was about to leave her there, but he did something that she didn't expect—he extended a hand toward her and beckoned once, his expression unreadable.

He was asking her to follow.

Before Lucy had the chance to even ponder whether following this boy's odd request was wise or not, he turned on the spot and ran—deeper into the woods, away from the path.

And he was moving extremely fast—if she didn't chase after him now, she would lose both him and the chance to learn more about the story behind this legend, and what better way to learn was there than from the source itself?

Curiosity won out against her better judgment. Lucy sprinted after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Natsu could hear the sound of the girl's pursuit some distance behind him, and his heart leaped at the realization.

He couldn't believe it. She was actually following him.

He didn't think beckoning to her would actually work, because really—no sane person chased after a stranger out here all alone in the woods. In the middle of the night, no less. Either this girl was stupid, brave, crazy, or all three.

Above all, however, he was immensely glad.

He couldn't even lie to himself about that. After so long, after so many accidental deaths and deafening silence and horrible guilt and so, so, _so_ much loneliness…he'd finally found someone that didn't run away from him. He'd finally found someone that could make him stop and think, _Yes, this person can be trusted._ Most of the others had either tried to run away from him, attempt to attack him out of fear, frightened _him_ into running away from _them_ , or…met their unfortunate ends. This girl…she'd done nothing but stand there and observe him, as any person probably would have when faced with a stranger. She hadn't screamed for him to get away, hadn't tried to run, hadn't tried to hurt him.

That excited him. This girl could be exactly what he'd been hoping for. She could help him get rid of this horrible curse that he'd been forced to carry for so much of his life.

She could finally free him.

Natsu understood that he was probably getting way ahead of himself. _Too optimistic_ , he thought. _Can't be too optimistic._

But he couldn't help it. He longed to be able to speak freely again without the guilt of killing any innocent bystanders. He didn't even have any idea what his own voice would sound like now. He'd gone too long— _far_ too long with this burden. His own voice wouldn't kill him, of course, but he didn't want to risk the chance of there being an eavesdropper somewhere whenever he talked to himself…and people weren't the only ones affected by his curse.

He paused in his running at the crest of a bare hill. He hadn't realized how fast he'd been going; he was struggling to catch his breath now as he turned around to see if the girl was still behind him.

For a horrible moment, he couldn't see her. Maybe he'd run too fast for her to keep up. Would he have to go looking for her now? Had she gotten lost trying to follow him?

After another moment, however, he could see a tiny light bobbing up and down a couple hundred yards away from the base of the hill, coming closer and closer, and he had to stifle his huge sigh of relief. She was okay. She'd somehow been able to keep up. In some ways, it was almost impressive just how plucky that girl was.

Not wanting to leave her too far behind again, Natsu waited for her as she approached the hill. He could see her come to a stumbling halt for a moment and double over with her hands on her knees, and it was pretty obvious even from this distance that she wasn't used to such strenuous activities.

"Hello?" He started in surprise at the sudden sound of her voice. The girl had managed to straighten up by this point, and was now calling out from the base of the hill, swinging the flashlight around her. "Hey, are you still here? Where are you?"

He blinked once in bewilderment at her antics. What was she playing at? He was practically right in front of her.

That was before realization dawned on him—this girl probably couldn't see very well without a source of light. He'd almost forgotten that he himself had gotten used to the darkness to the forest after living here for so long, so he could still see in the dark better than the average person. Small wonder that she couldn't see him the way he could her.

Still, he couldn't exactly call out to her to let her know where he was, and she (for some reason) wasn't thinking to shine her flashlight toward the top of the hill she was directly in front of. So he did the one thing he could do to catch her attention without endangering her.

He jogged down the hill toward her. The sound of his approach appeared to have alerted her to his presence, and she flinched and whirled around to face him, inadvertently shining the light of her flashlight into his eyes.

Fortunately, she seemed to realize what she was doing even before he'd brought his hands up to shield his eyes.

"Oh, no—I'm so sorry!" she apologized hurriedly, immediately pointing the beam of light away from his eyes. "I didn't mean to do that; I—you came out of nowhere, and I just got a little—a-are you okay?"

She didn't approach him as she apologized, which was just as well since physical contact with another person was one thing he didn't want to make, but her apologetic behavior intrigued him. If he was right in assuming that she'd come wandering into these woods in an effort to learn more about this "legend" that the townspeople had come up with in the years he'd been here like most of the others had before her, it was safe for him to assume that she knew the basis of the story—if anyone heard his voice, they would die. No exceptions.

But she didn't seem the least bit afraid of him, even with that knowledge. She kept her distance from him, of course, but she didn't sound any less remorseful. She was acting as if she'd simply wronged another person on accident—as if he was not someone she had to be scared of.

Once Natsu had managed to blink the spots out of his eyes, he went back to staring at her again experimentally (it wasn't difficult to give himself an excuse to do so, as she was being incredibly fascinating at that moment). Like before, she fell silent the moment he locked eyes with her. This only made him wonder even more about what was going through her head.

But her expression was pretty telling in and of itself—she didn't look frightened, nervous, or offended, or anything of the sort. If anything, she just looked curious again.

He blinked once, and the girl seemed to snap out of her trance. She chose that moment to quickly avert her eyes, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.

"S-sorry," the girl apologized again, her voice just a low mumble this time. "I didn't mean to stare…"

She trailed off, biting her lip.

Natsu sighed. For some reason, he couldn't help but sympathize with her. He felt the corners of his lips turn up into a grin when she finally managed to look up at him again with those deep brown eyes of hers.

He turned toward the hill he'd just descended from and urged her on in response to her bewildered stare before heading up the hill.

He kept his pace at a jog this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The farther Lucy followed the boy, the more apprehensive she felt.

She had no idea where they were now. It had felt like they'd been running through this forest for ages, yet she still had no idea where the boy was taking her.

After all, had it been smart on her part to decide following him deep into the woods without any sort of plan of how she was going to get back out? Probably not. Any other person would look at this situation and cry foul, because it was just too much of a coincidence for her to have run into the person she'd been searching for right off the bat. There was even the horrible chance that he wasn't, in fact, the subject of this legend, and she'd just inadvertently decided to follow a stranger deeper into a place where no one would be able to notice she was missing.

Lucy was well aware of this, but none of that was enough to get her to turn back. She'd already come too far. Even if she did decide to stop right there, she'd just get lost trying to get back to the town because she had no idea how to navigate this wilderness.

There was also the fact that the boy was glancing over his shoulder every so often, as if he was checking to see if she was still behind him. Each time he did, she could see the relief in his eyes.

She couldn't run off and leave him alone after seeing that. His behavior was also somewhat odd—somewhat antsy, like he was itching to tear off into the woods but forcing himself to keep at a slow enough pace for her to keep up.

Something was definitely bothering him.

It was impossible to describe just how much she wanted to ask him what the problem was. His antics were incredibly unsettling—there was a sense of urgency to them. But she knew she should probably keep her mouth shut just to be on the safe side—what if the boy forgot himself for a moment and opened his mouth to answer her if she asked? This entire trip would have been for nothing.

However, she believed it was safe to surmise that it had something to do with this legend—something to do with his life-stealing voice, or maybe something about the legend itself. Maybe he wanted to show her that there was more to this town legend than the citizens were willing to share.

…Then again, she could just be hoping for too much like she usually did.

Without warning, the boy came to a halt at the base of the final hill that the two of them had just crested. Lucy skidded to a stop several paces away and fought to catch her breath again. Once she did so, she straightened up and looked to the boy, who was watching her expectantly. Once he saw that he had her attention, he turned and pointed a finger into the blackness of the forest. Reflexively, she shone her flashlight in that direction—and the light just barely illuminated a tiny, dilapidated wooden cabin some distance from where they were standing.

 _A cabin…does he live there?_ It looked awfully small—it was more the size of a garden toolshed than an actual cabin, large enough for a person to sleep in but room for little else. She supposed, however, that she was probably right—a person living out in the wild wouldn't look that well-groomed—well, relatively speaking, at least. It was still somewhat of a relief for her to learn that he slept in some form of shelter instead of out in the cold.

Lucy looked back to the boy, who was still somewhat visible in the light of the flashlight, in confusion. Why had he brought her here? Why was he pointing out his sleeping place, of all things?

He simply stared back at her with an oddly impassive look. He raised his hand and pointed at her, then used the same hand to point back at the tiny building again, purposely keeping his eyes on her all the while.

Then she understood.

"You want me to go there?" The words had slipped out of her mouth before she'd realized, but luckily, the boy said nothing in response. He just nodded with the tiniest hint of a grin on his face.

She hesitated and glanced over at the tiny wooden building in the distance warily. Was there something in there that he wanted to show her? Or…was it something else?

"Are you going to come with me?" she asked him nervously. If this was some sort of trick, this would be the easiest way to tell…for the moment. There were a bunch of other things that she needed to account for her to correctly deduce if she was about to walk into a trap or not, of course, but this was just the first step.

The boy nodded again in response to her question. Yes. He even looked a little shocked at her question, like he was thinking, _Are you crazy? Why would I let you go alone?_

Okay. Step two.

"After you," she told him, waving him ahead.

She waited, but the boy didn't move. He just stood there and stared at her with a puzzled expression.

She realized after another moment that he hadn't understood her, so she tried again. "You go first," she said, "and I'll follow you. Take me over there."

Understanding dawned on his face after a moment, after which he nodded without protest and immediately started walking in the direction of the tiny cabin.

Lucy sighed to herself, allowing herself a small smile of relief as she picked up her feet and followed him. By this point, any notion of this boy holding whatever sort of malicious intent toward her had virtually evaporated, though there still was that tiny fog of caution that continued to linger in her mind—even though she was sure by this point that the boy meant no intentional harm toward her, she had to remember that he _was_ still the subject of the town legend that told of a boy that could kill with his voice.

She just had to hope that she could avoid doing anything that would elicit any sort of verbal response from him, unintentional or otherwise.

* * *

Lucy caught the distinct smell of charcoal as she neared the tiny building—and once she was near enough to observe its features more closely, she could see why.

The sides of the structure were covered in black scorch marks. Dark spots dotted the wooden walls and the eaves of the weathered roof—a good seven feet off the ground. Lucy couldn't tell from where she was and the odd angles of the beam of her flashlight, but she surmised that these marks ran all the way around the entire wooden building, since the side she could see had marks all the way down.

She approached the structure and touched one of the blackened spots of wood. The crumbling remains of the burnt wood came away on her fingers, staining them black.

 _These scorch marks happened recently_ , she noticed, staring at her fingers. She happened to raise her gaze once more to the spot—and she picked up on a detail that she hadn't caught earlier.

 _They're hand prints…_

Indeed, now that she was observing the building more carefully, she could see that the scorch marks on the building weren't random blotches. They were imprints of hands, both right and left—and knuckle prints as well, as if these walls had been pummeled with fists…which was odd. There were clear indents into the wooden walls; they weren't just charcoal stains in the shape of hands…how had these come about?

A loud _CLICK_ pulled her out of her musing and back into her situation—the boy had turned the rusted doorknob and opened the door and was waiting on her expectantly.

He wanted her to go inside?

After another moment of standing there, staring blankly at the boy, he rolled his eyes and cocked his head toward the entrance impatiently.

Yes, he did.

Lucy swallowed nervously, and then—doing her best to calm the furious pounding in her chest—entered the darkened building. She heard the door noisily creak shut behind her, and for a moment, they were completely surrounded by darkness—but not a second later, the space was illuminated by a sudden golden light.

Instinctively, she turned to the boy behind her, expecting to see him turn on a lamp or something similar, but he wasn't touching anything. A lantern hung over their heads, a cheery yellow flame burning within.

The boy wasn't anywhere near this lantern. How had he—?

As if in response to her unspoken question, the boy then glanced pointedly at her still-lit flashlight—Lucy caught a hint of red in his eyes as he he did so—and it promptly flickered off. Lucy's breath caught in her throat, too startled to even gasp in shock. She raised her flashlight and inspected it closely, clicking the switch back back and forth to see if it was malfunctioning…but it worked perfectly. Was that just a fluke? She could've sworn that his eyes (she still wasn't sure how to describe them) had distinctly become a deep red, almost burgundy color the moment he'd looked at the flashlight…or was that just a trick of the lights again, like from before?

Before she even had the chance to ponder, she heard a sudden shuffling to her right that pulled her out of her thoughts—the boy was now pulling something out from under what appeared to be a low table—and only now did she realize that she'd neglected to take in her new surroundings due to the shock of the moment.

The interior looked even more cramped than it had appeared on the outside. Aside from the flickering lantern swinging lightly above their heads, there was a tiny wooden desk in the left corner of the structure, a pile of dirty boxes covering the entire length of it. There was also a stack of eight or so dirty wooden pallets piled on top of each other in the back right corner covered with what appeared to be dry blades of long leaves. A sweet, pungent smell emanated from it. There wasn't much else aside from that—if one didn't include the fact that the scorched hand prints were also decorating the walls and contents—especially the boxes. There was also a distinct lack of windows.

Lucy frowned. So he didn't sleep in here after all? And just what were these charcoal imprints?

A light nudge on her shoulder snapped her out of her musing, and she turned to search for the source—only to find the boy holding out a small wooden chest toward her gingerly with a nervous expression. He was holding it by the tips of his fingers, as if the box was unclean.

Mystified, Lucy pocketed her flashlight and carefully took the box away from his hands—the boy lowered his hands and backed away immediately, immense relief plain on his pale features. It was almost as if he was terrified of the box, though it appeared rather unassuming.

"What is this…?" she wondered aloud as she turned the chest around in her hands, forgetting for a moment that she would get no answer. The chest was very light. It was warm to the touch—very warm, in fact, like it had been sitting above a lit fireplace. There was nothing remarkable about the exterior of the chest she could observe until she thought to look at the underside, where she spotted letters faintly carved into the wood. She turned it over in order to take a better look—they were difficult to make out at first, but she slowly read the names of the letters to herself, her mind already trying to form a word with them.

 _…N…A…T…_

 _…S…U…_

She paused there.

"…Natsu?" she read aloud in puzzlement. Realizing what she'd just done, she raised her gaze to meet the boy's, which was scrutinizing her expectantly. "Is…is this your name?"

He nodded, looking somewhat happier. Lucy couldn't deny the way her heart had skipped a beat in excitement when he confirmed it—she now had a name to the face of the legend. She was finally getting somewhere.

She happened to glance down at his name again, only to discover that she had somehow missed another row of letters below his name. These were thankfully much easier to make out, so she didn't have to inspect it letter by letter.

 _…Drag…neel…?_

Was this his last name? It certainly wasn't familiar to her as a word in the common dictionary.

"Natsu…Dragneel…" she murmured to herself. She suddenly felt the fierce desire to see the contents of this chest. Just the boy's name wasn't enough—she needed to learn more.

"Er…can I open this?" she asked hesitantly.

For the first time tonight, the boy—Natsu, his name was—appeared visibly afraid. Whether it was at the prospect of opening the chest or at her request to do so, however…it was difficult to tell.

Before she could apologize and take back the question (because it had been a rude thing to ask, in retrospect), he backed away as far as the building would allow him, right against the back wall, and nodded once before averting his gaze, beads of sweat visibly clinging to his skin.

Lucy was now even more curious about the contents of the box, but after seeing his reaction to her question, she thought better of it. "Listen, I…I won't open this if it makes you feel uncomfortable," she assured him, handing the chest back to him. "There's always later."

Natsu shook his head emphatically even before she'd finished speaking and glanced at the chest in her hands before raising his gaze to hers again with what Lucy took to be a stubborn resignation.

 _Don't_ , he seemed to be telling her. _Just open it already._

Lucy looked back down at the chest in her hands before his gaze could have the chance to lock her in place, biting her lip.

 _Well…it's now or never…_

Reluctantly, she placed her fingers on the rusted latch and popped it open, unlocking it. The lid creaked open noisily when she lifted it—clearly, it hadn't been opened in a long time…for years, even. She peered into the chest, her heart pounding in anticipation as her eyes finally fell upon…

…A single photograph.

Lucy's excitement deflated somewhat, but she lifted the photo out of the chest to take a closer look anyway. Sure, it was underwhelming, but it could still yield _something_ worthwhile…maybe.

It seemed to be a group photograph, taken many years ago in what appeared to be this very forest—Natsu was there, appearing much younger and more exuberant. He was smiling ear-to-ear, flanked by three silver-haired children on either side, whose images were also captured mid-laughter—two girls and one boy. The three looked strikingly similar.

 _They're probably siblings_ , Lucy surmised.

Two others were behind the children—an older teen appearing about seventeen that Lucy didn't recognize, dark-haired and smiling at the children's antics, and a very short, much older man, whose blond hair appeared to be graying with age, looking on with a goofy grin.

Lucy frowned. That man looked awfully familiar…

It took her a moment, but Lucy finally managed to put two and two together.

"It's him…!" she gasped aloud. "That man from the village who told me about this legend!" She looked up at Natsu frantically, who was now looking at her apprehensively. "He knows you?"

Natsu simply bit his lip and stared down at the holey floorboards, his bangs falling over his eyes. He refused to give any other response.

Lucy went back to staring at the picture, her chest tight and her fingers trembling around the photograph. _He knows Natsu personally?_ she thought in bewilderment. _But why didn't he say anything about that at the start? And who are these other people? Do they have something to do with this legend, too?_

Lucy's thoughts were racing—too many questions were reigning in her head; she had to get back to the village, _now_.

"Natsu," she said, hardly noticing his flinching at the sound of her calling him by name, "I'm sorry, but can you take me back to the village? I need to go see someone. And, um—" She indicated the photograph. "—Is it okay if I borrow this for a little while? I promise I'll give it back when I'm done with it."

She could see him visibly hesitating for a good minute or so—much longer than she would've liked him to deliberate—but he eventually nodded once stiffly and, without raising his head or meeting her gaze, stalked right past her, yanked the creaky door open, and plunged into the blackness of the woods before Lucy even had a chance to gather her wits enough to fumble for her flashlight and follow after him to avoid getting lost.

That old man definitely knew more than he was letting on—and this photograph was just the springboard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Natsu was so confused.

He'd assumed that this girl could be trusted. She hadn't exactly proven him wrong yet, but…she seemed more concerned with the solid facts than helping him find a way to break his curse. Even now, she was heading back to the town with that photograph for some reason he couldn't fathom—but to what end? Clearly, there had to be a reason she was even here in the first place, because she was definitely not one of the villagers that lived in the outskirts of the woods…and whatever that reason was, it probably took priority over helping him. He couldn't really blame her for that, however, since he hadn't exactly been able to tell her what he wanted from her in the first place, but there was an uncomfortable churning in his stomach that he couldn't explain away when he'd come to this realization.

 _Maybe she just doesn't realize that it's a curse…maybe that's why…_

Perhaps…or he could just be rationalizing.

"Hey, wait! Slow down!"

Natsu flinched and skidded to a halt at the sound of her voice, catching himself against the trunk of a maple tree near the edge of the forest in order to stop. He braced himself against it and breathed heavily—he hadn't realized just how fast he'd been running until now. He raised his head and turned around just as the girl caught up with him, holding a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her breathing.

"You run really fast," she panted, letting out a final breath as she managed to control her heaving. "I could hardly keep up…"

Natsu bit his lip and averted his gaze, scratching his head in embarrassment. He always had trouble gauging his own speed unless he was jogging…and he hadn't exactly felt like doing that once they'd left the cabin.

"Listen, Natsu," she said again—just like before, every muscle in his body locked up for a split second at the sound of his name leaving her lips. "I…I'm really sorry."

This was enough to get him to raise his head and stare at her in bewilderment. Why was she apologizing?

"The way you were acting back there…with this photograph. I didn't really catch on that you were bothered by it…" She bowed her head slightly, her cheeks a light shade of pink. "I'm really sorry."

Natsu had no idea what he should do now—she was apologizing to him, even though it wasn't exactly her fault that the photograph bothered him—but he decided to settle for shaking his head just as she raised her gaze. Lucy smiled at him gratefully, and his face suddenly felt hot.

This wasn't good. He wasn't getting sick now, was he?

"I'll make it up to you," she said, holding out a hand. "If you really are bothered by this picture, then I won't ask questions…but I'll try to figure out what's going on and help you get over it." She giggled lightly. "I mean, what with the letter says about you and the way you're helping me get back, and this picture…I get the feeling that you're not really the cruel territorial killer people say you are in the legend." Her smile softened. "You…you probably weren't always like this, were you?"

Natsu could only stand there and stare at her, completely stunned at what she'd managed to figure out even without him saying a word. Maybe he'd underestimated this girl. Maybe she really was the one who was meant break this curse placed on him. There was absolutely no key that was left behind for a conventional person to figure out how to break the curse besides that photograph, but maybe… _just_ maybe…this girl would change that.

"…Hey, you okay?" she asked suddenly, sounding concerned. "Wh-why're you crying? Did I say something weird?"

Natsu blinked in confusion—only then did he realize that his eyes were stinging and his face was damp. He hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve, nodded once in response, and waved her down as he turned away to hide the giddy smile that had made itself known on his face without his permission.

Tears had come out. _Tears._ He couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried. It had been so long that he almost hadn't been able to remember what it felt like.

She was definitely something else.

"…Well, um…" Her words brought him back to the present—thankfully, his eyes were now sufficiently dry enough for him to turn around and look at her again inquisitively. "Anyway, if you don't mind…can you meet me here tomorrow, in the evening? I want to give this back to you once I'm finished with it." She held up the photograph. "And hopefully by then, I'll have figured something out. That's why you brought me with you in the first place, right?"

A painful lump formed in Natsu's throat at her words, his lips suddenly quivering unbidden—this was just too much. It was overwhelming. He hadn't been prepared to feel like this—he hadn't been prepared to feel so _relieved_. She had him all worked out this quickly. She knew what he wanted. She was going to help him. It felt too good to be true.

This time, he couldn't hide his tears quickly enough—nor could he even muster up the will to. It was all he could do to cover his face as the wayward tears escaped and trailed down his cheeks, his jaw clenched with all his might as he tried to avoid crying out loud. He could feel himself trembling—his knees felt weak and flimsy, and he sank to the leaf-littered forest floor, sliding down the trunk of the tree he'd used as a brake moments before. His tears simply refused to stop.

He'd never felt this happy before in his entire life.

Natsu could feel the girl hovering over him, could vaguely assume that she was panicking with frantic words of concern, though he couldn't make them out—there was a loud buzzing in his ears that drowned them out.

He had to pull it together. He couldn't let her touch him—and judging by the tingling that he felt in his spine and the sound of her voice growing louder by the moment, she was on the verge of it.

"…Here, take this."

Natsu lifted his head away in surprise as she held a small pink piece of cloth out toward him, surprisingly still a safe distance away. He glanced at the cloth in her hand, and then back at her, blinking in puzzlement.

"It's a handkerchief," she explained at the sight of his expression. "You can use it to wipe your face." She smiled. "No offense, but you look like a mess."

Natsu blinked again as he returned his gaze to the piece of cloth in her hand. He hesitated. He wanted to take this cloth—she'd called it, what; a handkerchief?—but…

The girl's smile faltered somewhat in confusion. "What's wrong?" she asked, her words uncertain. "You…don't want it?"

If only he could tell her the truth…but what if he just scared her with the answer?

Before he could ponder any further, he reached down and picked up one of the dry leaves that had fallen onto the forest floor. By the time he'd raised it to eye-level, the leaf had already shriveled up completely and was beginning to crumble into ashes.

The girl looked on in astonishment as what remained of the leaf dissolved into a tiny pile of charcoal into his palm, her brown eyes bugging out in her shock.

"Wh-what just—?!" she gasped. She raised her gaze to meet his. "Did—did you do that?"

He nodded and turned away, spilling the ashes onto the forest floor at his feet. His heart was hammering at a million miles an hour—he couldn't believe that he'd actually done it. What was her reaction going to be? Surely, she'd panic and run for the village as quickly as her legs would carry her now that she saw what he had just done. She'd call him a monster, just like everyone else had…

Instead, he heard her murmur, "Oh my gosh…I'm so sorry…"

He had no idea when he was going to be done feeling surprised tonight. So she _wasn't_ scared of him?

When Natsu raised his gaze to meet hers again, he could still see it—he could still make out the fear, the wariness, the unease in her eyes, though her expression gave away nothing but sympathy. She was still afraid, but even so…she was still here.

Just what was she?

"It's like you've been cursed," she whispered as she knelt down to his level. "You can't talk without killing anything, and…you can't touch anything, either…" Her eyes grew brighter than usual as she spoke, her words hoarse. "This is horrible…how did this happen to you?"

He could only stare at her helplessly— _how_ , indeed…if only he'd had an answer to that; his problem would've been solved ages ago.

"I can't believe this," she said, her words steadier—and much angrier. "All those people in the village knew about this—this curse, didn't they? Why didn't they do anything to help you? Why did they just leave you out here like this to fend for yourself?"

He lowered his gaze and narrowed his eyes, resentment boiling inside his chest at the memory. The answer was simple enough—they were afraid. They were afraid of him, convinced that he was some sort of monster hell-bent on ending all their lives if they entered this forest. He wasn't sure how it happened, but over the years, the story had grown garbled and twisted into that ridiculous legend, and now no one ever entered this forest, believing that farce—not since that time, long ago…not that it had mattered to him. He hadn't exactly been feeling charitable toward the villagers much himself, but he couldn't stand to kill anyone else—so he'd usually directed any strays away from the woods. He didn't want to end up with another incident.

He still wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't done that with this girl when he'd encountered her, but he was too wrapped up in the good fortune that that decision had brought him to really think much about it. He wasn't sure why he'd decided not to do it, but he was immensely glad that he hadn't.

"Natsu," the girl finally said, making his entire body freeze yet again, "I promise you; I _will_ figure this out."

Surprised, he raised his head to look at her—there was a fierce determination burning in her eyes that made difficult for him to conceive the possibility of her failing.

It was a scary feeling…yet somehow exhilarating.

"Meet me here tomorrow at sunset," she instructed as she straightened and stood up, her eyes flashing with resolve like freshly-cut gems in the light of her flashlight. "I'll try to dig around for more clues in the village and meet that old man in the picture again, because I have a feeling that he didn't tell me everything. In the meantime, you can just wait for me—or do some digging yourself, if you want." She smiled. "Besides, you look like you'd have a nice voice. I'd love to hear it without needing to worry about dying afterward."

Natsu had no idea how to react to that. He simply nodded and stared down at his feet in lieu of a different response, his heartbeat quickening and his face suddenly feeling hot again like before—oh no; something really _was_ wrong with him. He'd never felt this way before, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked it. How was he supposed to fix this weird affliction if he didn't know what was causing it?

"Great!" She turned and jogged away toward the lights of the village, glancing back and waving as she did so. "I'll see you later, then!"

Natsu breathed a huge sigh as he slowly got to his feet, dusting off his clothes as he did so, and moved to to head back into the woods before he heard the girl call out again from a distance, "Hey, wait!"

He turned to see her waving at him from on the worn path, her smile plainly visible in the streetlights.

"I never told you my name!" she cried out. "I'm Lucy! Lucy Heartfilia!"

Natsu simply stood there, frozen in bewilderment, before he could gather himself enough to raise an eyebrow at her incredulously and nod, a small smile playing across his lips once again. He continued to watch as she waved one more time before she turned her back to him and dashed toward the village.

When she finally disappeared from sight, he himself turned and sprinted back toward the cabin.

 _Lucy Heartfilia_ , he mouthed to himself, unable to wipe away the grin on his face.

It sounded nice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Lucy's heart was tearing two ways as she reached the village outskirts.

On the one hand, it had been such a breakthrough. In just a scant several hours, she'd been able to deduce a good amount of the finer details of his legend, assured in its validity thanks to Natsu's confirmations. She counted her lucky stars that she was able to meet Natsu and get so much figured out. She probably knew more about this legend than most of the others that tried to investigate it—outside of the villagers themselves, of course. She could write an amazing book with the materials and research she'd managed to gather (though in the heat of the moment, she'd neglected to take notes).

On the other hand, however, she felt that she had asked him questions about this legend for the wrong reasons. She did learn a great deal about this legend, yes, but that only opened up her eyes to a whole new scale of problems that made her stop and think that maybe…maybe she'd been a tad selfish. She'd been so excited at the prospect of meeting Natsu, the subject of the "whoever hears his voice shall die" lore of the village, that she'd neglected to take in his side of the encounter until just now—just before she'd left him at the edge of the forest, promising to meet him later in the evening to help him sort out this "curse". She'd been so caught up in the idea of this legend that she hadn't considered the fact that the subject of the legend was also a human being—another regular person with feelings, beliefs, and opinions, just like her.

Now that she'd figured out his story, however, Lucy was bound and determined to pay him back by breaking the curse. She wasn't exactly sure how to go about this yet—the only clue she had was this photograph of Natsu and several other strangers—but maybe that same old man could tell her more once she went back to see him and showed him this picture that depicted him with Natsu and several other children. Besides, it was unlikely that this photo had been altered in the circumstances in which she'd gotten hold of it.

Lucy sprinted down the hastily-paved center road that cut through the village, her lungs threatening to burst due to all the running she'd been forced to do that night, but she pressed on—she had to meet the old man again as soon as possible, though she couldn't exactly explain the urgency to herself. It wasn't like this curse had a deadline or anything…right? It was lucky that the path was empty, or else she probably would've run into to someone while lost in her musing.

…Wait. The path was empty?

She took that moment of realization to skid to a halt and catch her breath as she scanned the area, properly taking in her surroundings. Aside from the occasional hoot of an owl and the constant chirping of frogs and crickets in the darkness, the entire village was silent. No people were out on the streets—at least, not from what she could see via her flashlight and the dim lamps scattered about within the village boundaries. None of the buildings were lit on the inside, either. It was as if everyone in the village had decided to up and leave during the time she'd been gone. Granted, it was probably really close to the morning now, if she was measuring her time correctly, but…no establishment of human civilization was ever completely silent and dark like this, even during the night.

Something had happened while she was away. She had no idea what, but her heart squeezed painfully in fear. Whatever had happened, it hadn't been a good thing.

A panic she couldn't quite explain away gripped her as she resumed her mad dash for the old man's tiny cabin home. If something really _had_ happened here, then the old man could also be in danger. She had to hurry and get to him—unless she was already too late…

 _Shut up, Lucy!_ she commanded herself. She couldn't let her mind come up with every single worst-case scenario in the book right now. She had to focus on the task at hand—and pray that he was safe.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucy finally caught sight of a pinprick of light in the velvety blackness ahead of her—when she drew near, she saw it coming from a window from a tiny wooden building that she recognized as the old man's home. She would've collapsed in relief right there, but she managed to hold herself in check. No, it was too soon to be relieved. She hurried to the door and raised a hand to knock when she heard voices inside.

"…quite the stubborn old goat, aren't you, Makarov?"

Lucy froze. That didn't sound like anyone she'd met here in this village…was this another visitor? It sounded like an adult…a man.

"Oh, I am nothing in comparison to you, young man," she heard the old man reply gruffly. "I've told you repeatedly that you have no more reason to continue coming here and frightening the villagers into hiding. Last time I had anything to report to you, it was three years ago. We haven't had any more incidents."

Lucy's heart skipped a beat. _Three years ago? Incidents?_ Those details were eerily in line with the letter she'd gotten at the start of this endeavor. Were they talking about Natsu? If so, then her theory was confirmed—the old man definitely knew him, as evidenced in the photograph that she was now clutching tightly in her hands as Mr. Makarov's visitor responded to his words, a light chuckle punctuating his answer.

"Well spoken, Makarov. It is true that there hasn't been any more incidents since that day…a difficult day for you, to be sure." A pause. Mr. Makarov didn't interrupt. "He won't be able to last long at this rate, in any case. It's really a vice in disguise that he was born with a kind heart. Perhaps I should go…pay him a visit."

A chill shot down Lucy's spine at the enunciation of those words. The words themselves weren't all that threatening, but the _inflections_ …

"We've been through this many times, Zeref. You know that he will not conform to your wishes. I will not take you to him."

 _Zeref_ … That was a name unfamiliar to Lucy, but she filed the information away for future reference as she continued to listen in, pocketing the picture so that both of her hands were free to brace against the door.

And apparently, Mr. Makarov knew where Natsu lived…or at the least, knew where his tiny cabin was out in the woods.

"I'm losing my patience, Makarov," the visitor—named Zeref, she reminded herself—interjected, his steady voice finally faltering. "I know that you're the one behind the drop in the number of headcounts over the past decade, and with the way things are going, he's going to live his entire life like this." His words were hoarse now, like he was holding back tears. "Why won't you let me do it? This would all end if you stopped running away from the elephant in the room! Why won't you just let me help him?!"

Lucy's blood froze at Zeref's protests. So they both knew about this curse—and for some reason, Mr. Makarov was keeping Zeref from helping Natsu break the curse over him. What reason could this old man possibly have to prevent someone from freeing Natsu from the terrible burden of being forced into silence and reclusiveness for the fear of ending another innocent life unwittingly? Her head spun with questions with no answers, and it only worsened when the old man retorted in kind.

"I WILL NOT HAVE THIS INNOCENT BOY BEAR ANY MORE SINS ON HIS SHOULDERS!" he roared with such a fury that was unbecoming of his age. "You would have done well to remember that he is just as much of a human being as you and I, you fool! He has already suffered enough thanks to your foolishness! Now go on; get out! OUT!"

Lucy quickly scrambled around the corner of the home and hid herself just as the door burst open and a person came tumbling out of the doorway. Lucy couldn't make out details because of the overbearing darkness that nearly seemed to swallow the feeble lights of the village lamps, but the figure looked decently tall, so she figured that he was Zeref.

Zeref scrambled to his feet and abruptly took off into the night without another word, his silhouette blending with the shadows around him as he vanished. Lucy stared after him until he disappeared from sight, then awkwardly stood there, periodically glancing at the open door—was this a bad time to visit?

"Well, well…aren't you that young lady from before?"

Lucy yelped in shock and jumped a mile high at the sound of the old man's voice—she hadn't noticed him exiting the door and approaching her.

"M-Mr. Makarov—I—!"

Mr. Makarov chuckled. "Easy there, child. I'm not going to bite you. I am just happy that you are safe."

"Um—" Lucy struggled to compose herself. "Sorry, Mr. Makarov—I was—er—"

"You overheard my conversation with the one that just left, I presume?"

Lucy caught herself and stammered guiltily. "Um…yes, sir. I—I'm sorry; I didn't mean—"

The short-statured man sighed heavily. "Well, I couldn't have hidden it for long from a bright young lady like you. Come on in, dear—it's chilly tonight."

* * *

"So, young lady," the old man began as he settled in an armchair and indicated a small two-seater to Lucy, who thanked him and sat down, "How much did you hear?"

"U-umm…" Lucy fidgeted in her seat, hyperaware of the photograph in her pocket. "You mentioned something about not having any more incidents…"

"Is that so…you must've gotten here near the end of our conversation, then." He tapped the armrest with a finger as he continued, "Well, we can get to that later. I'm just glad that you are safe, child—I grew concerned when you didn't return at sunset."

Lucy felt her face grow hot. "Th-thank you," she stammered, her gaze shifting to the hard wooden floor. "I'm sorry, but…something came up, and I didn't think to come back until just now."

The old man leaned forward in his seat, gazing at Lucy pointedly. "Did you run into the boy, child?" he asked her, his eyes dark.

Lucy swallowed. So much for keeping the encounter a secret… "Y-yes. And…I came back to ask you…" She fished out the photograph and held it out toward him. "…about this picture that he gave me."

"The boy _gave_ this to you?" he repeated, thunderstruck, as he quickly snatched the photo out of her hand and scrutinized it intently. "For how long…I had thought that this had been lost forever…but he'd somehow kept it safe…what a miracle this is…"

Lucy's chest twinged in nervousness, but she decided that now would be the best time to start with the probing—before she lost her nerve. "So…you know him personally, Mr. Makarov?" she ventured.

The old man's wrinkled brow knotted together in consternation, still not taking his eyes off of the photo, but he answered distractedly, "I do, yes…he's as good as my own flesh and blood, that boy…and the one that just left. They're brothers."

"He's got a brother?" Lucy's head began spinning with questions. So Mr. Makarov had been speaking with Natsu's brother? She hadn't expected him to have living family. But what had they argued about, exactly, and why did it seem like that the two of them weren't on the best terms? Was the dark-haired person in that photo perhaps…? "Is he the dark-haired person in the picture?"

"Yes, that's him," the old man murmured. "His name is Zeref…that foolish boy…"

Lucy decided that it was probably best not to ask details about this Zeref person quite yet. "Who are those other children, then?" she asked instead. "Were they friends with them, or…?"

"They were. They were from another family, of course, but I took them in and raised them as my own…the five were about as close as true siblings."

"But…where are they now?" Lucy hadn't missed him referring to them in the past tense. "Did they leave the village at some point?"

The old man didn't answer for a time—the silence was so prevalent, Lucy's ears were ringing. She got the feeling that maybe she'd broached a rather personal subject. She opened her mouth to apologize and take back the question—it wasn't really necessary to trying to figure out how to break this curse, after all—but the old man interrupted.

"Do you know when this picture was taken, dear?"

Lucy blinked, surprised at the sudden question. "N-no, I don't…the picture isn't dated, but I just assumed it was a long time ago, since you both looked a lot younger…"

"I see…well, I suppose the boy couldn't exactly tell you…" He handed the picture back to Lucy, who carefully pocketed it again. "Yes, it was taken…goodness, nearly eleven years ago now. Not long before that poor boy was cursed…and before I lost those children to it three years ago."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Natsu ran straight past the tiny cabin to his shelter.

Perhaps he'd been running around too much this particular night, but he was extremely exhausted. He was ready to drop dead onto his rickety old bed again, even if it did smell funny and make a lot of noise when he moved around on it. He could look forward to getting some rest for the remainder of the day, and meet that Lucy girl back at the edge of the village again the following evening. The excitement of the night had completely worn him out.

He slowed to a jog, struggling to control his breathing, as he continued onward—and so many thoughts ran through his head as he did. So Grandpa Makarov had been the one who had told Lucy about this legend? It probably was, according to her words earlier. What exactly had he told her, though? He hadn't seen him for a while now, but he figured that he must be pretty old by this point. Did he remember everything? What exactly would Lucy be able to figure out by going to ask him questions about that photograph if he hadn't told her the first time?

All these thoughts flew through his mind, but he couldn't really organize them in any shape or form—it was just too confusing. Lucy could probably figure something out. He didn't want to think too hard about it; it made his head hurt.

He finally reached the familiar grove and wound through the brittle brush until he came out into a clearing, where his sleeping area was—a one-story wooden home, completely obscured from sight by the trees and bramble. It had been built specifically for him to live in in secrecy—at least, according to the unsigned note he'd found on the porch when he'd first discovered it, which was nearly five years ago. He still had no clue who had penned that note (or how this particular person had even known who he was), but he was grateful for the shelter. It had been much better than that toolshed of a building that he'd been forced to hole up in for years. The home was very heat-resistant—there were very few scorch marks anywhere in the house, no matter what he touched with his hands. He'd learned to stop questioning it about a few months after he'd moved in.

He entered through the front door, closing it carefully behind him, and meandered through the dark corridors until he reached his sleeping room. He promptly collapsed upon his bed, not even bothering to get undressed, and blankness clouded his mind as he fell into the comforts of unconsciousness almost immediately. He probably wouldn't get all that much rest (sleep never came easily to him), but it was better than constantly staying awake.

As usual, his dreams were fitful.

* * *

 ** _It's dark…_**

 ** _I can't see…_**

 ** _Big brother, where are we going?_**

 ** _…_**

 ** _Are you here?_**

 ** _Big brother, I'm scared…!_**

 ** _Wh-where are you?!_**

 ** _…No, I don't want to!_**

 ** _I want to go home!_**

 ** _BIG BROTHER—!_**

Natsu let out a strangled gasp, his eyes snapping open to darkness as he bolted upright, having been jolted out of sleep yet again. His entire body was slick with sweat, cold and clammy, to the point that his clothes stuck to his skin. He breathed heavily and grasped his chest, his heart fluttering a million times a minute as he struggled to comprehend what he'd just heard.

 _That…that was a dream…right?_ He couldn't understand. Voices…that was the first time he'd heard voices. He hadn't seen anyone, so he had no idea who it could have been, but his heart ached considerably for the speaker's obvious distress, and he felt his eyes sting as it prickled with tears.

…But why? Why did it hurt so much? Why was he pining for a voice he didn't know?

 _Who are you?_ he thought, his jaw tightening to keep his sobs from bursting out inadvertently, rubbing his face with his hands. _And…why am I crying for you…?_

"…Natsu."

Natsu could have sworn that his heart stopped at the sound of the unfamiliar and most definitely corporeal voice calling his name—a sharp pain had shot through it, to the point that he doubled over and winced. His breaths came short and fast, and he felt light-headed all of a sudden—his thoughts were growing fuzzy, but he could just barely manage to think before the throbbing forced him to abort his efforts, _How…?_

He'd never shown anyone this place—not even his adoptive grandfather…yet someone was here in this room with him—and somehow knew his name. It should've been impossible for anyone to find…

…Unless…

"You've grown so much since I saw you last…I'm glad that this shelter was able to serve its purpose."

Natsu's breath caught. Was…was this the person that had left him this shelter? And…he knew Natsu from before?

The pain finally passed, and he quickly searched the room for a source of light. His eyes found the lamp standing next to his door, and the room was promptly illuminated, and he found him standing there—at the foot of his bed, dressed completely in black, was a tall man with dark hair and hollow eyes. He was smiling pleasantly at him, but combined with the paleness of his skin contrasting with the visual void of an outfit, it made Natsu want to crawl under his bed and hide, if only he could bring himself to move a muscle. His entire body had frozen up in his bout of terror—he couldn't escape now, no matter how much he wanted to.

Natsu was helpless, so he simply stared up at the stranger warily. Who was he? Why had he come here? What business did he have with him?

The man seemed to read his expression just fine, because his shoulders drooped slightly, that unsettling smile of his still in place. "You don't remember me…do you?" he asked, an undercurrent of hurt present in his words. "I should have expected as much…you've had to suffer quite a bit because of me, after all…"

Natsu blinked, still uneasy. They…they knew each other? What did this man have to do with—?

"I apologize, Natsu," the man said—Natsu's heart seized up painfully once again, crippling him all the more. "There are too many ways that I've wronged you…I can't do anything to make up for them. But… _you_ can. Once you do…you'll be free."

Natsu's eyes widened in spite of himself at the man's words. This man…he knew something about his curse. He whipped up his gaze to meet the man's pleadingly. If what this man was saying was true, then surely he was referring to a way to break his curse. He waited with bated breath for an explanation as his heart slowed—he was willing to do pretty much anything, listen to pretty much anyone by this point.

Even this stranger.

Natsu had no idea what his face looked like, but something about it seemed to change the man's countenance. His smile slowly faltered and tears welled up and spilled over as he backed up a couple steps from the bed.

"I'm so sorry…!" the man whispered hoarsely, covering his face with his head bowed. "But this was the only way…the only way I could get what I wanted…!" He locked eyes with Natsu, tears streaming out of them relentlessly. "It's the only way…I'm so sorry, little brother…!"

A cold fist tightened around Natsu's heart at that. His temples began to throb painfully as he took in what the man had just called him.

 _Little brother?_ he thought blankly through the pain. _That's impossible…I don't…I don't know this person…I—I can't possibly be—_

 ** _BIG BROTHER—!_**

Natsu's head suddenly exploded in pain—he collapsed back onto his bed—he curled in on himself, clutching his head tightly—his mouth opened in a silent scream as he thrashed, his fingernails digging into his scalp—he couldn't breathe; his chest was burning—oh, God; the pain—the pain—!

 ** _Big brother, where are we going?_**

 ** _Are you here?_**

 ** _Big brother, I'm scared…!_**

Natsu wanted to scream—he wanted to scream to the point that he clawed at his throat, but still no sound came out. All these words, all these images, all the voices that rushed into his mind as if someone was flooding it with information that he never asked for—it was tearing him asunder from the inside, threatening to rend apart his entire body and make it burst at the seams—

 ** _Wh-where are you?!_**

 ** _I want to go home!_**

His surroundings had completely fizzled out—he could see nothing—he was alone; terribly alone—he reached out somewhere— _anywhere_ for help—someone—he wanted someone to help him—but no one came; his hand grasped at nothing—he was left to write in this agony; this pain encompassed his entire being, wouldn't release him—he was all alone again—there was no one; no one was there; why—?!

 _Why won't anyone kill me—?!_

 ** _It's dark…_**

 ** _I can't see…_**

He scrabbled at his face—he felt something warm and wet trail down the entirety of his face—something hot and sticky was clogging his fingernails, but he didn't care—didn't care, wouldn't care, _couldn't_ care about anything but this overwhelming agony—

 ** _…No…no, I don't want to—I don't want you to die, big brother—!_**

 ** _Please—I love you—!_**

 ** _Don't do it—!_**

Just as abruptly as it had started, the pain stopped—he was left a trembling, gasping, choking mess on the bed. He felt himself burning up on the inside, but he couldn't stop his shivering—a horrible chill was plaguing him in the wake of that fit, his eyes frozen open and staring at nothing—staring right through the man standing before him—his mouth was agape in shock, his fingernails digging into the delicate skin on his face. He couldn't loosen up. His entire body was tense, so tense that it was to the point that it ached terribly. He was effectively paralyzed, unable to break free of the fetal position he'd contorted himself into during that episode…not that he would have even if he could.

That's right; he remembered now…this man…he was actually…

"So…you finally remember me." The man's voice was disturbingly even now, a completely different air to him than before. "Good. That saves me an explanation, then."

He stepped forward and knelt beside the bed, cupping Natsu's clammy cheek in his hand, seemingly not even caring that his palm had begun to blister and boil at the moment of contact, and breathed into his ear in an alluring tone, almost hypnotic, "My name is Zeref Dragneel…and I am the one who cursed you with this existence. Only my life can free you." Natsu was vaguely aware of something running through his hair—his other hand?—as in his fatigue, his consciousness threatened to slip through his fingers and abandon him in blackness. His muscles had tired, and his body had finally gone limp. He couldn't move, couldn't find the energy to fight or protest, couldn't find it in him to break away from his touch. His eyes threatened to close, tempting him with the comforts that only unconsciousness could bring to him…

Yet he still felt the fear. He was terrified. It gripped his heart, squeezing painfully as his vision began to swim and blur…he didn't want to succumb to the darkness of sleep right now…

 _Please…not yet…_

 _Not yet…I don't want to…!_

He couldn't…he could feel himself slipping…being dragged down into the blackness against his will…his strength was nil; he couldn't fight it…tears were slipping down his cheeks thanks to the terror, yet he could do nothing…

"So speak my name to me, brother…end my life. Only then will you truly be free."

The voice had too much reverb. Natsu was barely able to make it out. He heard it…heard the words…but he couldn't attach any thoughts to it…coherency was abandoning him as he slipped ever deeper.

Before unconsciousness finally claimed him and brought him under, he mouthed one word in a silent plea.

 _Lucy…_

* * *

A sudden shiver shot down Lucy's spine, jolting her awake. She sat up quickly on the two-seater of the old man's home, apprehension tugging at her heart. It spurred her into an urgency that confused her, but she swung her legs over the side of the couch and stood up all the same. She snatched her travel bag and jacket and quickly (and clumsily, as she was being unusually hasty) laced up her boots.

She wasn't sure why, but she had to go find Natsu—the anxiety that loomed over her pushed her on, whispering into her ear, urging her to hurry and go to him as soon as possible. She'd learned in her constant travels that going with her gut feeling would always lead to a payoff somehow—even though she dreaded seeing whatever she would find at the end of this search. Judging from what she'd heard from Makarov, she just couldn't shake the feeling that something awful was about to transpire, and she knew that she would wholly regret if she couldn't make it in time.

She finally managed to knot her boot laces correctly and left the small home, opening and closing the door carefully as to not wake the old man before she took off toward the forest. The sun was just starting to rise, peeking through the branches of the distant trees and washing the landscape with bright light. On any other occasion, she would've marveled at the sight—but that would have to wait. Time was of the essence, so she continued running. While she realized that she had no real idea on where Natsu could be in the forest at this time, she had a feeling that this gut feeling would lead her right to him, even if she did get lost.

"Hang on, Natsu," she muttered under her breath, dashing headlong through the woods. "I'll be there soon…!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Naturally, Lucy got lost without help…but fortunately for her, she met some unlikely guides, which convinced her that the forest that surrounded this village was most definitely of the supernatural variety.

She'd run headlong into the woods for maybe all of three minutes before she found herself in a stretch of the woods that she didn't recognize. Rather than panic, intense frustration had taken hold once that realization had hit her.

"Oh, of all the times to get yourself lost, Lucy…!" she hissed at herself, looking around frantically for any landmark that she could use to reorient her position. She still couldn't understand this sense of urgency—she just knew that she had to be where Natsu was. There was a feeling nagging at her that something bad would happen if she didn't get to him in time.

Some part of her was incredulous—why was she so insistent on risking her life for this boy she'd only met several hours past? This wasn't what she'd come here for. Getting too attached to the subject of her research would only bite her in the back later. She knew this, and had managed to perfect it into an art for her practice…of course, until now.

For some reason, no amount of professionalism was able to deter her from trying to find Natsu again. Something about that boy had struck a chord with her—despite the mysterious air surrounding him and the story behind him and his curse, she found him strangely relatable. As strange as he was, she almost couldn't believe how… _normal_ he seemed to be. He seemed to be nothing more than a regular—if overly quiet and shy—teenaged boy, who had likes, dislikes, strengths, and insecurities. Though she wasn't sure if a regular teenaged boy would flush bright red even being in the proximity of a girl, there was always an oddball in the equation.

After another minute of fruitless searching, she huffed in impatience and plopped herself down onto a large boulder, feeling uncharacteristically exasperated. At this rate, she'd never find Natsu in time—not to mention she'd be stuck in this forest for who knew how long if she didn't managed to find out where she was. She sighed, brushing back her bangs, and decided to at least assess her surroundings.

She'd ended up in a clearer part of the woods, where the number of trees weren't so densely packed together. The trees themselves had wide, spread-out branches with scattered leaves, which let the sunlight filter down nicely onto the forest floor, which was littered with dead and dying leaves and branches, and the occasional acorn. There was also this boulder she was sitting on, and some distance to her right, there was a small cluster of shrubbery at a point where the ground rose in elevation slightly and then evened out again—either that, or the hummus had just piled up really high.

…And she still had no idea where she was.

Lucy was just about to reach the point of anger and kick up a storm of dead leaves when she caught sight of something just beyond the cluster of trees—a white shape of…something peeking over the shrubs. It was tall, vaguely human-shaped, and a feature of the shrubbery that Lucy was overtly positive that she hadn't seen before now. She stood up and squinted her eyes in an attempt to get a better look at it, but the shape was blurry—she couldn't really make it out.

"Hello?" she called, stepping closer. "Is someone out there?"

Lucy got no response, but she could finally make out what the white shape was—or rather, _who_ it was. It was a girl, with pixie-cut snow-white hair and pale skin. She was wearing what appeared to be a plain white summer dress (it was difficult to tell because she was standing behind a bush), which sharply contrasted her bright blue eyes. They were so striking, it was a wonder to Lucy that she hadn't noticed them initially.

She approached her carefully—she wasn't sure if this girl was dangerous or not, and she'd learned not to judge by appearances—and tried talking to her again.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked. "You're not lost, too, are you? Do you know where we are?"

The girl remained silent as she stepped out from behind the shrubs—and she was followed by two others that seemed to appear out of thin air—a young man, and an older-looking girl, both quite a bit taller than her—and the three of them looked straight at her. They all had the same white hair and blue eyes, which probably should've unnerved Lucy, but…these three looked familiar…

Then it clicked.

"Wait, I know you!" she noted with surprise. "You—you guys were in that photograph with Natsu! What are you doing here?"

Lucy realized what a stupid question she was asking—how would these three know what she was talking about?

But they smiled at her.

"Are you looking for him?" the older girl asked, her voice soft.

"Y-yeah, I am." Lucy couldn't help but be intimidated by just how beautiful she was. With her flowing silvery hair that reached down to the small of her back, a simple black-laced dress that fit her form perfectly, and her flawless skin practically glowing in the morning rays of the sun, she almost looked like a goddess. What was even scarier was that she barely appeared to be older than Lucy herself.

Lucy realized that she was staring, and she blinked. "So, um, do you know where I can find him?" she asked hurriedly. "I had a feeling that something bad might happen, so I thought…"

The three of them exchanged glances. They seemed to be three parts of a whole being, what with how much in sync they were with each other. Then they turned back to face her

"So you're the one." Lucy's heart leaped at the strange response—by the young man in a deep, gruff voice. He was heavy-set and very tall, much taller than either of the girls, and appeared to be wearing a black uniform. He looked mildly amused. "Heh…he's a lucky kid."

"Wh-what?" Lucy was confused. What were these people talking about?

"He's not far," the shorter girl answered at last, turning and pointing west from her position. "Pass through a dense patch of low trees, and there's a large cabin standing in a clearing. That's where you'll find him."

"A large cabin?" So that was where Natsu actually slept. It made so much more sense to her. "That's where he is?"

"You'd better hurry," the older girl warned, her expression serious. "He needs your help now. Find him and free him." Her expression softened. "You're the only one who can…so hurry and save him in our stead."

"I-in your stead?" Lucy stammered, staring in the direction the younger girl was pointing. "Wait, but what does that—?"

The question got caught somewhere in her throat. When she'd turned back, the three were nowhere to be seen. It was as if they'd vanished into thin air the moment she'd looked away from them.

 _Wait a minute…what just…?_ Lucy smacked herself in the face several times to get her mind back on track. Now wasn't the time to think about this—whether they'd been ghosts or illusions or what have you didn't matter. Now that she knew where to go, she had to get moving. She could think about all that later, but now, she was sure that Natsu was in some sort of trouble—and she had to go find him and help.

She took off running in the direction that the younger girl had indicated. The morning breeze had picked up, and it was slapping her relentlessly in the face, as if urging her to expedite her pace.

"Okay, okay; I got it already," she muttered into the wind, squinting her eyes to keep them from drying out. "I'm on my way; let me breathe!"

Just as the last word dropped from her lips, the wind stopped slapping at her face and blew the opposite direction—pushing against her back, speeding her up.

Lucy had to smile to herself. _What a weird world this is…_ She then picked up her pace, practically flying as she sprinted forward…forward…forward…until she saw a dense clump of trees, just like the girl had described. And dense was right—she couldn't see anything through the other side except more trees.

 _That's the place!_ She ran until she hit the edge of the clump of trees—and she finally slowed herself down as she picked her way between the tree trunks and avoiding wayward branches, breathing hard. It was so dense, it was difficult to see in front of her—she would've reached for her flashlight, but it was a pretty cramped space, and thus difficult to move about freely. She wound through the thicket of trees for what seemed like hours, but she finally saw light peeking through the last of the branches.

She picked up her pace, eager to reach the light and escape the smothering layer of foliage—and she found herself in a clearing, standing before a huge wooden cabin. It was so large, she probably would've mistaken it for an actual house if she hadn't been informed otherwise. It was so intensely quiet here that her ears began to ring—but she knew that this was the place.

She didn't have time to admire the exterior, however—she quickly ran up to the cabin, onto the porch and to the front door. She yanked the door open and stepped inside—and the interior was so huge, Lucy was caught off-guard. She had no idea where to start looking, even though this was a one-story building. She wouldn't have been surprised if she found a hatch to the basement somewhere.

She stood there stupidly for a couple heartbeats, trying to figure out where she wanted to look first—then she heard a terrifying _CRASH_ from the end of the main hallway that nearly made her jump out of her skin.

 _What was that—!?_ Without thinking, she ran toward the direction of the sound—the door at the end of the corridor—and she was met with a horrifying sight.

The room had probably been much neater at one point, but now it had looked like a rogue tornado had torn through the place. The bed was dented, its sheets and mattress a torn and scorched mess. Every manner of furniture in the room had been broken, knocked over, or both.

In the far corner, to Lucy's left, stood a dark-haired man dressed completely in black, his back to her. His clothes had been scorched off in places, exposing raw, red skin—as if he'd been burned. He didn't seem to notice her presence—at least, not yet.

And there, pinned to the adjacent wall by the man, beaten bloody and bruised, was an unconscious Natsu.

* * *

Lucy couldn't breathe; she was so horrified. She recognized this man as the one in the photograph—and the one that had been speaking to Mr. Makarov the night before.

This man had to be Zeref, the one the old man had referred to as Natsu's brother…who—for some unfathomable reason—was holding his limp and horribly beaten sibling against the wall, covered in welts and boils and seemingly not noticing the pain.

Lucy was too overcome with terror to speak. She wasn't actually sure if Natsu was still alive or not. He didn't seem to be breathing at all, and his face and hair were both dripping with blood from both his hairline and his lips. His clothes were torn ragged and bloodied as well, and his bare legs were peppered with bruises and odd-colored blemishes. His right arm was bent at an odd angle.

Zeref didn't seem to be bothered by this at all. By all appearances, he was the one that had made Natsu look like he'd been beaten half to death.

The only question she wanted desperately answered was…

 _Why?!_

Almost as if in response to her unspoken question, the dark-haired man swiftly turned his head to look at her, making her flinch back in fear and disgust. His face was covered in blisters, and his wide, dark eyes were completely bloodshot—his sclera appeared completely pink. Then he opened his mouth—and the words that came out of it made Lucy believe without a shadow of a doubt that this man was completely, certifiably, absolutely _insane_.

"He won't say it," he whispered in a raspy voice, his tone a high-pitched plea as he turned to her in full, tears flowing down his face in his crazed episode. "He won't say my name…he won't speak to me, no matter how much I beat him…"

He released his hold on Natsu as he stepped toward her, letting him crumple to the floor against the wall like a broken toy. Lucy wanted so badly to step back, out of the room, out of the cabin, away from this forest and everything to do with it—but she didn't move. She _couldn't_ move.

"Please, miss," he pleaded, reaching out his scalded, blistered hands toward her. "Could I get you to help me?"

Lucy could do nothing but clutch her face and scream in horror.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

She's _here._

Somehow he knew. He could hardly think. He could hardly feel. He had no idea where he was, what he was doing there, how he'd gotten there. He couldn't tell which way was up or down, couldn't tell if he was alive or dead or whatever was there between—but he _knew_.

Lucy was here. By coincidence, by sheer luck, by somehow picking up on his silent cries for help—she was here. He probably should've felt relieved at that moment…happy, perhaps…or maybe excited.

But he could hardly make sense of anything the way he was now. There was pain—he could tell that much. A dull, throbbing pain all throughout his body, particularly in his head and right arm, made itself known to him unassumingly, slowly seeping into his senses to the point that he could finally feel where it was hurting. He soon realized that _everywhere_ hurting—it all caught up to him in one moment, and he let out a choked gasp before he started breathing heavily. Every breath felt like a million needles were stabbing into his lungs, but he hardly paid that any mind.

He was alive. That was what was important.

He still couldn't move; it hurt too much to even twitch a finger, but he could still see—to a degree—and he could hear. He could hear everything—clearly.

He could hear Lucy screaming.

"Miss, will you please help me?" he heard Zeref plead, completely ignoring Lucy's obvious terror. He sounded so desperate, so anxious, so _distressed_ for her help—her help in getting him to end his life.

"N-no—stay away from me!" he heard Lucy scream. Her words were shaky in her sheer panic, so some of the strength behind it was lost—but her fear was still very apparent. "Get out of here—leave Natsu alone, you—you _freak!_ "

"I can't," Zeref repeated, his voice cracking. "Only—only Natsu can take me away—but he won't do it—please, you have to help—!"

"So you want to turn your own brother into a murderer?!" Lucy shouted after a brief pause—furious now. "You want him to live with the fact that he killed his own brother?! You—you're insane! How _could_ you?!"

"I—" Zeref's words faltered once. "No…you don't understand…he has to be the one…he has to be the one to end me…" Natsu watched helplessly as his brother stepped forward once more toward her. "It's the only way to break his curse…so please…tell him to say it. Tell him to say my name…he'll be free once life leaves me…please…!"

Lucy visibly hesitated at those words. She backed off a pace, staring at Zeref uncertainly. "You…you can't be serious…how would that—?"

Natsu wished so desperately to explain to her what was happening—wanted so badly to tell her how much he didn't _want_ this. He didn't want to kill anyone anymore—that was the whole reason he'd sequestered himself deep in these woods in the first place, so that no one would fall victim to his cursed voice ever again. He'd always managed to turn away any stragglers, if only to avoid the curse from taking them, too…but this situation was completely foreign to him. He'd learned that Zeref—his _brother_ —was the reason for this curse…and killing him was the only way to break it. The only way to free himself was to _willingly commit murder_. What kind of choice was that? What was he supposed to do?

That wasn't the only question that reigned in his mind, going completely unanswered. Why had Zeref cursed him? _How_ had he done it? Why did Zeref want to die so badly? Why couldn't he have found some other method than this, if he'd wanted to do so? Why didn't anyone stop him? How had Natsu—for all this time—forgotten all about his brother until now?

Natsu didn't want to kill Zeref. If his nightmares were to be trusted, then he hadn't been subject to this curse willingly. Zeref had forced him into it. He hadn't wanted to kill his brother, because he'd loved him, but Zeref hadn't listened.

Now Natsu wasn't sure what he felt. Was he supposed to love his brother now? After finding out that he was his brother after so long, after being beaten senseless and half to death—he didn't feel any love. No, he felt complete confusion. Overwhelming fear. Unexplainable grief. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he _was_ —for this complete stranger, he _felt_ …but while there was no love…there was no hate, either. He was just confused, terrified, and anguished…

The thing he wanted more than anything—to be free of this curse—would come…only at a terrible cost. If willingly ending someone's life was the cost, he wasn't so sure he wanted to be free of the curse anymore.

Furthermore…how did Lucy know that Zeref was his brother?

"…was the one who brought about this curse…so I am the only way he can be free from it," Zeref was saying, Natsu's attention slowly returning to the conversation. "It's the only way. So tell him—tell him to speak my name and end me, because that's the only way he'll be free. Perhaps he'll listen to reason…if you were the one to tell him."

Zeref had switched to that flat, emotionless tone again, and Natsu's panic flared up. Something terrible was about to happen—but he was helpless. He could do nothing the way he was now.

"You've got to be kidding me," Lucy cut in at that moment, her voice uncharacteristically low. "You're saying that the only way to break his curse is to get him to _kill you with it?_ I'm sorry, but that's not happening!" The volume of her voice rose with each syllable. "There's a reason he stays in this forest away from other people, you know! Did you ever give _that_ much thought?! _You're_ pretty much the whole reason he doesn't want to kill you in the first place!"

Natsu almost couldn't believe just how _bold_ Lucy was acting. She was in the face of a deranged death seeker, but she was somehow holding her ground.

"So you refuse to listen to reason…very well, then." Natsu caught another movement—Zeref was moving toward Lucy—purposefully now. Natsu had no idea what he was planning on doing, but he was sure that it would end badly. If only he could give out a warning—!

"You would leave Natsu to his curse, even after promising to help him break it," Zeref said, "and even after the only opportunity to do so presented itself to you without any catch whatsoever. You truly are a fool."

"Well, it takes one to know one," Lucy retorted, "and I'll tell you right now that there's _always_ —" A sudden _CRASH!_ made Natsu's heart leap in shock, which brought on another round of stabbing pain in his chest. "—another way!"

Natsu heard something heavy fall to the floor (he was starting to lose focus in his vision again) and then being dragged across the floor. He then heard a _SLAM!_ and a _click!_ —Lucy must've locked the door.

"I wish I could call the police, but there's no reception out here…!" Lucy's voice grew louder as she approached him. He could feel a presence looming over him. "Natsu, please let me know that you're okay…don't die, please…!"

Natsu forced himself to blink—and he blinked hard, finally clearing his blurry vision. He could see Lucy hovering over him, her eyes glistening in the dim light of the lamp.

"Oh, thank goodness—you're alive!" Lucy said in relief. She then reached out to him—almost as if on impulse—but Natsu flinched away before she could make contact, making a sharp pain shoot up his injured arm and forcing out a wince.

"…Oh, right…" she murmured. "I can't touch you, can I…" She bit her lip as her eyes scanned the ruined room. "But I can't just leave you like this…how am I supposed to treat you? Isn't there something around here that I can use…"

She then seemed to catch sight of something, because she let out a pleasantly miffed, "Oh…this could work…!" as she stood and hurried over to where his closet used to be, just to her left. When she returned to his field of vision, she was holding something white—a cloth, perhaps?—and she knelt and began wrapping the cloth around his injured arm, muttering to herself, "It's kind of dirty, but it's the only thing that can work…"

A hot jabbing pain shot up his arm again at her touch, but he hardly winced as he caught sight of her makeshift gauze.

A scarf. A plain white scarf.

A warmth spread through his arm at its touch, all throughout his body—even through his thick sleeve—a familiar, comforting warmth that he couldn't place. He was pretty sure that he didn't own a white scarf, nor did he ever remember having done so, but he couldn't deny the warm familiarity it brought him, no matter how implausible it seemed. It made his chest squeeze painfully…longingly…a lump formed in his throat, pressing against it until it hurt—it made no sense, but that didn't matter to him. The scarf brought him a strange comfort. It made him feel safe. It made him think of home…wherever that was.

 _So…is this what home smells like…?_

 _It smells…nice…_

"…H-hey…is something wrong, Natsu?" Lucy asked hesitantly after a moment. Only then did Natsu realize that—at some point—he'd taken hold of the scarf with his good hand, preventing her from applying it any further. Also—he wasn't sure _how_ he hadn't noticed this sooner—he'd been crying. The tickling sensation on his cheeks—that had been his tears trickling down his face.

But he didn't want to let go of it. He didn't even care that he was crying. He wanted to hang onto the scarf for as long as he could. It almost made him forget the pain. He didn't need it wrapped it around his arm—he needed it _close_. He wanted to hold it against himself. Maybe if he did that, the pain would go away completely…

Natsu made no effort to respond to her, and so they stayed that way—Lucy staring at him in puzzlement while he hung onto the scarf stubbornly, tears streaming down his face—for the good part of a minute. He tried to tell Lucy with his eyes that he wanted her to let go of the scarf—even if he could talk and ask her, his throat was completely shot, so he wouldn't have been able to, in any case.

 _Please let me hold the scarf…_

 _…Just for a little while…_

 _Please, Lucy…_

After a while, she seemed to understand. She released her hold on the scarf, leaving it to him. Natsu then wasted no time in bunching a handful of it and pressing it against his face. He breathed in the smell, took in its rough texture against his battered cheeks, and took it all to heart. His tears were flowing even more freely now as this odd sense of nostalgia hit him like a sudden storm, which was churning inside him just as violently. The pressure on his throat was immense—he could hardly breathe.

He felt so homesick.

 _I want to go home…_

 _I want to go home…but…_

 _But…I…I…don't know where that is…!_

He had no idea why he was feeling this way. He'd never known a true home. He'd never seen this scarf before in his life. Yet the combination of him holding this scarf and taking in its scent hit him like a dozen sledgehammers—he wanted to go back.

But…where was "back"? Did he even have a place to go "back" to that had this smell, that made him feel this? Did he _ever_ have such a place? If he did, then how had he forgotten? How had he forgotten something so fundamental—so _important?_

And this scarf…why did it feel so familiar to him? Why did it feel so comforting? He couldn't understand—maybe this scarf had been an important part of his past—an important part of the "back". What were the chances that it had been with him all this time without him realizing? Why was it now of all times that he'd found it again?

"Natsu…" he heard Lucy murmur, but he hardly paid her any attention. He was too caught up in this feeling that was washing over him relentlessly. In all honesty, he probably would've forgotten all about her if it hadn't been for her speaking up just then.

But then it hit him—of course.

Lucy. She was the cause of everything that had happened. She'd been the first to not run away from him, even after his warning. She'd been the first one to truly understand his curse. She'd been the first to promise to break the curse however she could. She'd saved him from so many years of loneliness, and saved him from the hands of Zeref. She'd brought him this scarf.

However, a great amount of pain had come along with their meeting as well. The odd warming of his cheeks, the sudden return of his memories, and his altercation with Zeref—he wasn't sure how he'd been able to survive that, but…he had a feeling that Lucy had had a hand in it somehow. It couldn't have been coincidence that she'd come to these woods. It couldn't have been a coincidence that they'd happened to meet in these woods.

She was the reason for all this. She was why he felt so unbelievably happy now—to the point of grief.

Without thinking, he opened his mouth—and he uttered his first words in three years.

"…Thank…you…"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It'd been three days now.

Lucy wasn't sure how it had happened, but pretty much everything had been resolved in that time. By some miracle, the old man Makarov had happened upon the cabin in the woods not long after Lucy's attempt at treating Natsu. He had already called the local authorities and explained the situation to them (at least in a way that wouldn't be incriminating to him or Natsu). The psychopath Zeref had been apprehended only hours after the fact—and Lucy had helped Makarov bring Natsu to his home in order to be properly treated by a doctor.

Three days…and Natsu had yet to awaken. She was now sitting at his bedside, observing his unconscious form (heavily bandaged with his right arm in a cast), trying to comprehend the events right before Makarov had shown up in her mind as she watched his steady breathing.

He'd spoken to her…and she was still alive.

Lucy was sure it hadn't been a trick or a figment of her imagination. She'd definitely seen his mouth move, definitely heard his voice speak the words _Thank you_ before he'd finally succumbed to his wounds. High-pitched, somewhat gravelly, with a halting speech pattern…it would've been clear to anyone not in the know about his curse that he hadn't spoken for an extended amount of time. She'd heard him—but nothing had happened to her. She'd been shocked, perhaps…but no worse for the wear.

And she couldn't understand.

The man Zeref had claimed that the only way to break Natsu's curse was for him to be killed by it. Natsu hadn't spoken to him at all—Lucy was the one that had knocked him out. Natsu had only spoken after Zeref was unconscious, but nothing had happened.

And afterward—when she and Makarov had brought him back to the town to be treated—they'd had no trouble holding him. Neither of them had blisters or boils upon their skin, even after prolonged contact with him.

Did this mean that his curse had somehow been lifted even without Natsu having killed Zeref with his voice? That had to be the explanation—otherwise, none of this would have occurred the way it had. The only question was…what had done it? What had broken the curse?

Lucy unwitting glanced down at the scarf she'd scavenged from the wreckage of that room, which had been freshly washed and folded in her lap. For some odd reason, Natsu had almost immediately clung to the scarf, even as she'd been wrapping it around his broken arm. He'd been crying. His eyes had been practically begging her to let him hold onto it. She wasn't sure why she'd done it, even now, but she had eventually acquiesced—and he'd thanked her before falling unconscious.

Coming into contact with it had changed things somehow. That had to have meant something…something important. It was obvious that that scarf meant something to him…but it was impossible for her to tell what significance there was in that observation. There were too many holes that she couldn't fill in this whole situation with the information she had. She needed more answers.

Natsu was the only person she could ask…but could she risk that?

A sharp gasp suddenly pulled her out of her thoughts. Her gaze immediately flicked toward the bed. She saw that Natsu had finally awoken. He had bolted upright in the bed—and he looked frightened out of his wits. His head whipped back and forth in a panicked manner, breathing heavily from the shock. She didn't even have time to open her mouth to try and reassure him when he at last caught her eye—and he froze, staring at her with that same frenzied light in his eyes. He looked so terrified that Lucy's heart ached

"Natsu…I'm glad you're awake," Lucy said gently, in an attempt to calm him down. "You've been out for days; Mister Makarov and I were really worried about you. Don't worry; nothing else is going to happen to you. You're safe now."

He didn't seem to register her words at first. He was still looking up and down at her, as if he was making sure that she was real. The panic in his multifaceted eyes finally softened into confusion.

Lucy hardly needed to ask the reason.

"…I'm not sure what happened, either, Natsu," she admitted, finally catching his attention. "But…I do remember you thanking me. You told me so. And, well—" She managed a small smile. "—I'm still alive. Mister Makarov and I carried you here, to his house, so that we could treat you properly." She then showed him her blemish-free hands. "And nothing happened to either me or him when we touched you."

His eyes widened again, this time in shock. He finally seemed to notice that he was heavily bandaged, raising his good hand and touching the gauze wrapped around his forehead. He lowered his hand and stared at it (as it, too, was also tightly wrapped in gauze) in wonder before lightly brushing his fingers along his cast. He then raised his gaze and stared at her hands in stunned inquisitiveness, as if he was thinking, _Is this real? Nothing is burned?_

"Everything is fine," Lucy assured him. "No one got hurt…and I'm not dead." She smiled. "You're free now. You don't need to worry anymore." She then lifted the scarf she'd been holding and handed it to him. "And this…it's important to you, isn't it?"

Natsu raised a hand and took the scarf from her wordlessly. He held it up and stared at it for an untold number of seconds before he flicked his gaze back to he, focusing once again on her hands. Lucy could see the doubt in his eyes—he was still uncertain. He didn't quite believe her yet.

"Natsu," she said, prompting him to raise his gaze. She held out her hand. "Give me your hand."

Natsu blinked in alarm. He retreated slightly, biting his lip. The fear in his eyes were plain, but she just insisted, "It's all right. You won't hurt me; I promise."

It took a bit more coaxing, but Lucy eventually managed to get Natsu to put down his scarf and reach his hand out toward her, albeit reluctantly. Without hesitation, she gripped it—the rough gauze rubbed against her palm as she clasped her fingers around his. His hand felt warm— _normal_.

"See? I'm just fi—"

Lucy's breath caught when she noticed the tears.

They rolled down his cheeks freely, silently, yet profusely as he kept his eyes locked onto their hands. Lucy felt his grip on her hand tighten slightly. His expression was completely unreadable, but it was easy to tell just from the tears how he was feeling.

Then he opened his mouth.

"…L…Lu…cy…"

It was hardly a whisper. Lucy had to strain to catch it.

"Yes?"

He drew in a shuddering gasp—his tears flowed as if from a bottomless fountain. "C-can…I…" He stuttered as he spoke, haltingly, as he'd done earlier. "…hold…you…?"

Lucy blinked in surprise. "You…want to hold me?"

Natsu nodded, his face flushing a bright pink as he turned away, biting his lip.

Understanding dawned on her at that moment when she realized what he was asking. She smiled again. "Of course you can," she answered.

Lucy rose from her seat and leaned forward, opening her arms wide and wrapping them around his shoulders in a firm hug. She felt Natsu tense up underneath her arms for a brief moment before he, too, reciprocated. She could feel the hesitation as his good hand tentatively brushed against her back—but it was brief. It was hardly a moment later that she could feel his nails digging into her back as he trembled beneath her hold, crying openly and without reserve.

Lucy simply smiled softly to herself, rubbing his back soothingly as he continued to sob.

* * *

It wasn't until the following morning that Natsu felt well enough to get out of bed and move around.

Everything still felt so _alien_ to him. It was a marvel to him that he could pick up flammable objects like books and newspapers and see that they remained intact. It was still thrilling for him to be able to speak without having to watch anyone keel over and die. Of course, he still had a lot of practicing to do—not having spoken for over three years had taken its toll—but it was now, more than ever before or since, that he understood what a gift it was to be able to communicate so freely. It was truly a blessing in disguise. He'd had no idea just how stifling it'd been, being unable to speak for so long.

He now lounged in an wooden chair in his sleeping room, fingering the white scarf that he'd draped around his neck. He'd finally changed into regular clothes, so he was now wearing a plain gray tee and black sweat pants. So many questions had gone unanswered…and even more had cropped up since he'd woken up.

Other than Zeref, Natsu had no other family that he could speak of, nor even remember. Did have any other family members out there? Did he have a mother and father? Cousins, aunts, uncles…maybe more siblings? It felt hollow and empty inside, not really even knowing who he was, or where he'd even come from. The woods had been the only home that he'd ever known…but he'd never truly been a part of it. He'd been nothing more than an straggling intruder—something that hadn't belonged, but had nowhere else to be. It had only been several days since he'd been taken from the woods, according to Lucy's account, but he already felt completely separate from it, as if an invisible barrier had been erected between them that he could no longer cross over.

And then there was this scarf. He'd been inexplicably drawn to it when he'd first laid eyes on it, overcome by an overpowering surge of longing that, even until now, he still was unable to explain to himself. It brought him considerable comfort and warmth, especially for an item of clothing of its size. Even now, having it draped over his shoulders, he felt safer and more secure thanks to its touch.

It had to be some sort of key. Natsu had a sneaking suspicion that it was perhaps this scarf that had broken his curse in place of him needing to kill his brother—how else could he explain the unnatural warmth that had spread through him at its touch?—which meant that it was more likely than not a clue to his past…to who he really was and his origins. It couldn't have been a coincidence that this had been in his old cabin the entire time he'd been there without noticing it once.

He could feel the frustration coiling up restlessly in the pits of his stomach as these thoughts continued to pervade his mind mercilessly. What was he to do now? Where was he to go?

 _Knock, knock._

Natsu looked up in surprise, broken out of his thoughts. Someone was at the door.

"Natsu? Can I come in?" Lucy's muffled voice sounded from the other side.

Natsu immediately rose from his seat. "Y-yes," he answered, feeling nervous.

The door creaked open, and he watched as Lucy let herself in. She was dressed for travel—she was wearing her jacket, and she had on tight-fitting jeans and white socks. She was holding her boots in her hand as she entered—she set them down next to the door before turning to face him.

Natsu frowned. Something about her expression seemed odd. She was smiling but…he got the feeling that she wasn't exactly happy.

"Are…you okay?" he managed to ask. His own words still sounded strange to him—he couldn't enunciate properly yet—but he hardly paid that any mind now.

"I'm fine." She approached him and paused several feet away. "It's just…today's my last day here. I need to go home now."

Natsu's breath caught in spite of himself. "You're…" he began slowly, "…going…home?"

Lucy nodded. "Yeah…I was only supposed to be here for about a week, and, well…time's up." She shrugged, but Natsu saw that she was biting her lip. "I know it's kind of in bad taste to just leave like this after everything that happened, but…it can't be helped. I'm sorry."

Natsu almost couldn't comprehend the concept. Lucy was leaving? She wouldn't be coming back? The girl that he'd run into in the woods by chance…the only one who'd cared enough about helping him break his curse…the person who had helped him achieve his goal…

…He'd never see her again?

"So…I came here to say goodbye before I left," she went on. "I was going to leave without telling you, because I didn't want you to get upset…but Mister Makarov insisted that I come here and—"

"—convince you to go with her," a third voice interrupted, startling them both. Natsu stared in astonishment at the uninvited guest.

Lucy sounded just as shocked when she exclaimed, "M-Mister Makarov?!"

Sure enough, the petite old man was standing at the doorway, his brow crinkled in a smile up at the two of them.

They were at a complete loss for words. Had he really said what he thought he said?

"You heard me, young lady," Makarov said calmly. "You'll be taking the boy with you."

Natsu couldn't believe his ears.

"B-but—!" Lucy could hardly get a coherent phrase out. "M-Mister Makarov, y-you didn't say anything about—I—I couldn't possibly—I mean—I can't—I don't know what to—!"

"I understand that I am asking a lot of you, my dear," the old man said, letting out a heavy sigh, "but the boy will gain nothing by staying here." He stared up at Natsu, his black eyes twinkling. "In any case, this place will do nothing but constantly remind you of the heartache that you've had to endure for so long. It is better for you to go with her. Go out there and see the world for yourself. Learn new things. Find the answers you seek." He bowed his head. "I know what it is that you're looking for…but you won't find it by staying here. Doing so would only hold you back."

Natsu couldn't breathe. "B-but…I…"

"Natsu," the old man said firmly, and Natsu fell silent. "Remember what happened over the course of this week. The reason that you are here now, standing up straight and speaking to me, is thanks to Miss Heartfilia's endeavors. I've failed you as your guardian, for I have done nothing to rescue you from your pain." He raised his gaze and locked with Natsu's once more. "For that, my boy…I sincerely apologize."

Natsu shook his head and stepped back, even as Makarov finished speaking. "No…" he whispered, his voice hoarse, his eyes wide. "No…don't…" His knees suddenly felt weak—he had to brace himself on the backrest of his chair to stay standing. He felt a lump press against his throat painfully. "Don't…!"

"Natsu…" Lucy murmured.

"Don't…say sorry…" he rasped hoarsely, his eyes stinging. "Please…don't…don't be…sorry…!" His arm could no longer hold him up—yet he futilely held onto the chair as he sank ever lower to his knees. "It…wasn't…your fault; you…" His breath cracked. "…Did nothing wrong…Gramps, I—it's okay—Gramps—!"

His hand finally slipped off the chair, unable to maintain its grip. Natsu let it fall limply against his side. His vision was blurred now, but he didn't need to see to know who it was when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close into an embrace.

"Thank you, my boy…" Natsu could hear the old man's voice break slightly. "Thank you…for not blaming this old codger…thank you…!"

Natsu couldn't find it himself to reply. No, he could hardly trust himself to speak. He just held on with all the might he could muster with his free arm. He hardly paid attention as Makarov began speaking to Lucy in the midst of their embrace.

"I implore this of you, Lucy, dear," he heard him say. "Please, watch over this boy in my stead."

Natsu couldn't hear her answer, but it didn't matter. He didn't need to know. He felt a hand grip his shoulder gently, and that told him everything.

He was free to go.


End file.
